


I think I know enough of hate

by Kasamira



Series: Cersei's Contemplations [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bad Parenting, Conspiracy, F/M, Family Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Irony, Murder, Robert Baratheon's Funeral, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 22:36:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20628668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kasamira/pseuds/Kasamira
Summary: Her husband, Robert Baratheon, killed by a pig. Perhaps the gods were truly just.





	I think I know enough of hate

The boar tasted like triumph. 

It had been cooked with mushrooms, its skin seared crisp, an apple stuffed in its mouth- Cersei had never tasted meat so delicious. Seated at the high table, she'd had three heaping helpings before motioning the servants aside. 

Must not be too generous, she was in mourning colors. 

Her husband, Robert Baratheon, killed by a pig. Perhaps the gods were truly just. 

The feast had been rather subdued, a hushed murmur filled the hall instead of the usual din. Seated at the high table Cersei had full view of their mourning garb- dark gray and black fabric, bent heads, the murmur of quiet prayer. She did not miss the choking fumes of incense from the funeral. That foul smelling smoke filled her clothes, leaving a thick oily layer on her hair. 

Black had never been a happy color on her, the suddenness of the king's passing hadn't even left time for a a new gown to be made. With her fair skin such dark colors made her look half a corpse herself. 

Cersei longed to dress resplendent in crimson silk, with cloth-of-gold lions stitched breast to feet. Rubies should drip from her hair. A gored stag at her feet. 

Thank the gods Baratheon banners were already black, they'd been left with no time to change them. They hazed yellow and black out of the corner of her eyes, Cersei imagined them gleaming Lannister crimson, with her seated before them as a conquering Queen Visenya. 

"Tommen stop squalling like a child!" Joffrey was chastising his brother. Tommen's blubbering only increased, his face red with snot and tears. The boy should have been put to bed hours ago, the servants would need to be punished. 

"Ser Arys take Prince Tommen and the Princess Myrcella to their chambers." Joff should stay, it would do the people good to see their new king. Her lion was radiant tonight. Cersei had to catch her lips from curling every time Joffrey's black velvet surcoat caught in the torchlight, gleaming crimson. 

Myrcella was somewhat quieter than her brother, but still her eyes were red and swollen with tears. Her daughter retired quietly, with a few whispered courtesies, and a kiss on the cheek. At her words Tommen's cries grew louder. 

The queen put her arm around Tommen, gripping him firmly, and kissed his golden curls. 

"Weep quietly. You are a prince, not a squalling child, the lords are watching you." 

Joffrey was far more composed. He'd been pale at the morning service, but held his head proudly when Robert was laid in the Great Sept. He'd always been her strongest. Only the highborn and their retinues had been admitted to the morning service; there had been another in the afternoon for the commons, and then the evening prayers were open to all. Cersei had needed to return for that, so that the smallfolk could see her mourn. The mob must have its show. It was a nuisance. Nevertheless, she had done her duty, lit candles, bowed her head, whispered prayers to the Stranger. 

At each service, mourners highborn and low, had sunk to their knees as their queen went by. Many of her fathers bannermen were here, Gold cloaks, and knights who'd served her for years. The sight of them made her feel more confident. I am not without friends. Soon Joffrey would be crowned, with her as regent by his side. Her lion would need her to teach him how to rule and keep him safe from his enemies. A ruler gets no rest. 

The bells of the Great Sept of Baelor tolled audibly. 

Widowhood suited her. She had laid half her life in wait, enduring endless slights. But this, widowhood was her path to power.

**Author's Note:**

> The title, "I think I know enough of hate," was taken from Fire and Ice. The poem GRRM partially based ASOIAF on. If there's a single line in that poem which reminds me of Cersei...


End file.
